Wassail, Wassail
by Ellena McKelles
Summary: ONESHOT. Draco Malfoy prefers to be drunk and alone on Christmas. An appearance from Harry Potter seems to change that.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own a damn thing. Nope. Well, just the plot and original characters.  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Draco Malfoy despises Christmas. Harry Potter aims to change that.  
><strong>Author's Notes<strong>: So, this is a prequel of sorts of 'Merry Christmas'. I wanted to see where my mind would take me if I saw Harry and Draco get together. Moreso, I wanted to write more Harry/Draco. And for LadySlytherin05, who seemed very interested in the backstory.  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: foul language, slash, snogs.

* * *

><p><strong>Wassail, Wassail<br>**_by Ellena McKelles_

"You are coming."

Draco raised his head to find his partner, Marc Pemberlly, standing before him. The man looked ridiculously resolute about his statement, even though Draco had no intention of accompanying the man. The staff Christmas party had been an event that he'd succesfully avoided for the last four years he'd been employed at the Ministry. It was never fun and his department somehow got paired with the Department of Alchemic Regulation every year. Not that the Department of Alchemic Regulation was a terrible department. They were all extremely knowledgeable about their field. Quite possibly to the point of all honesty, who wanted to party with a bunch of Alchemy nerds? Not Draco Malfoy, that was for damn sure. He'd rather be trapped at the Malfoy Manor with his homophobic grandfather.

"No, I am not."

Marc slammed his hands down on Draco's desk. "Yes, you are." He straightened up. "C'mon, Malfoy! We're with those nerds from Alchemic Regulations. We'll be getting birds left, right, and center."

"You mean, _you'll_ be getting birds left, right, and center." Draco shuffled his papers together. "I'm not your personal _wingman_, Pemberlly. Find someone else."

"There's going to be food this year." Marc cooed.

"Don't care." Draco replied, walking out of his office.

"And caroling."

"I don't care." Draco pulled his cloak from it's hook.

"And booze."

"I have liquor at home." Draco retorted, pushing the button on the elevator. "And that's where I am going, not your bloody Christmas par—"

Draco nearly flattened the man getting off the elevator. A large pair of emerald eyes surrounded by dark-framed spectacles stared back at him.

"_Potter_?"

"Malfoy?" Potter blinked owlishly at him. "I didn't know you worked in the Justice department. That's a tab bit ironic."

Draco scowled. "How is that iro—"

"Hey!" One freckled man exclaimed. "Get your arse moving, Potter. We got a party to get to!"

Harry shuffled out of the way as four awkward looking men shot out of the elevator and down the corridor. "So, yeah... I, eh, guess I'll see you around, Malfoy. Happy Christmas."

Draco stared after the dark-haired wizard. He had definitely changed since the last time Draco had seen him. Potter was still ridiculously short for a male, but he was no longer a skinny pale little thing. Still slender, but his shoulders hand broadened out and his skin was a healthy caramel color, like he had recently been on vacation to the tropics. He had traded in his awful round black wire glasses for a fashionable pair of square espresso brown plastic frames. They made his eyes an even brighter green, if it was possible. His hair was still a dishelved mess, but slightly longer than it had been at school. Curling around his collar in a childish way. He was an adult now and most certainly looked like one.

"So, are you coming now?" Marc asked, resting an arm on Draco's shoulder. "You could catch up with your old schoolmate."

"We were not mates, Pemberlly." He shrugged Marc's arm off. "We just happened to be in the same year, different houses."

"Whatever..." Marc waved his hand dismissedly. "You coming?"

Draco heaved a heavy sigh. "For fuck's sake, _fine_, I'll come."

**.oOoOo.**

The party was in full swing by the time Draco and Marc arrived. Most of the women were avoiding the corners of the room where any male from the Alchemic Regulations department was located. Their faces lighting up as Marc walked into the room. Draco made a beeline for the bar as a gaggle of women surrounded Marc. He winked at Draco, plopping down at a table to regale them all with his latest triumphs in court. Draco rolled his eyes, setting himself down at the bar. He ordered a scotch and then turned himself around to survey the room. It had been a good turn out, he assumed mostly because of the free booze. He watched as some couples dance drunkenly in one corner of the room. Marc was speaking with the group of women who had surrounded him earlier. The sycophants were hanging on his every word. Batting their eyelashes and giving him ample views of their cleavage. Draco rolled his eyes and continued to scan the rest of the room. His eyes befell the dark-haired wizard he'd bumped into earlier. He was talking animatedly with a group of colleagues, hands waving about wildly. Draco smirked, there were still some childish ways about the Boy-Who-Lived.

"He's grown into a rather delicious-looking man."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Hello to you too, Blaise."

"I'm a little shocked to see you here tonight." Blaise settled himself next to Draco. "It's not very often you come out for a Ministry function."

"I prefer well-mannered frivolity to," Draco gestured to the people dancing. "drunken idiocy."

Blaise chuckled. "So you didn't just come to ogle Harry Potter then."

"Why on earth would I ogle Harry Potter?"

"Oh, I don't know..." Blaise cast Draco a sidelong glance. "He's certainly worth the ogle nowadays, given his certain proclivities."

"His certain proclivities?"

"How could you not hear about the break-up of the century? It was all over the _Prophet_."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You know I don't read the _Prophet_."

Blaise turned around to lean on the bar. "Well, you know how Potter had been dating that Weasley girl—what's her name, Gwendolyn? Cassandra? Ginerva? _Who cares_... Anyway, you know tha they had been dating for a few years. Finally, they get engaged right after Potter hears he's been accepted into the Auror Academy. You know, he's doing everything that's expected of a war hero. Wedding day comes around, four hundred guests are present, not to mention all of the Wizarding press, and Potter _leaves her at the altar_. Halfway down the aisle, he just turns around and walks out." Blaise turned to face Draco. "Apparently, he flees to Nicaragua for six months, comes back and takes the Ministry Alchemist exam, passes with exceptional marks and hasn't spoken to the Weasleys since."

"Any of them?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Any of them."

"How peculiar..."

"Oh yes, quite. Of course the rumor mill was working overtime when this first happened, but from what I've gleaned, it sounds like Potter spent a lot of quality time with Apollo Knigtrode."

Draco sipped his drink. "That's not terribly strange, Blaise. Knigtrode is a noted Alchemist. I'm sure Potter studied underneath him. What Ministry official would say no to a letter of recommendation from Apollo Knightrode?"

Blaise chuckled. "I'm sure he did quite a bit of studying beneath Knightrode."

"I'm sensing a double entendre here."

"Quite possibly..." Blaise smirked. "I'm sure you don't care what Harry Potter's personal proclivities are, but apparently he prefers hard bodies to soft, delicate ones."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Potter is bent?"

"Like a boomerang." Blaise said plainly.

"How interesting..."

**.oOoOo.**

It wasn't until the day before Christmas Eve that Draco saw Harry Potter again. He couldn't get the dark-haired wizard off his mind since his conversation with Blaise. He found himself specifically taking on cases that dealt with Alchemy just so he had a reason to set foot in the Alchemic Regulations department. It was getting ridiculous. He was not becoming obsessed with Harry Potter. He sighed and scanned the bar. Potter and Zacharias Smith seemed to be getting quite sloshed. Smith was obviously trying to get the dark-haired wizard back to his flat. He had bought drink after drink for Potter, smiling flirtatiously. Potter swayed slightly on his bar-stool, hiccoughing slightly. Draco stared down at his drink. He knew that Potter really had no desire to go home with Zacharias Smith and it was clearly showing. Swallowing the last of his drink and firming his resolve he headed toward the bar where Smith and Potter were sitting.

"Another, Mister Malfoy?"

"No thank you, and no more for my associate Mister Potter here."

Smith scowled. "I think Harry is old enough to make decisions for himself, Malfoy."

"I don't know, Zach." Potter slurred. "I think he's right, I've had a bit more then I'm used to."

"Oh really now?" Smith straightened himself to appear taller. "Maybe we should get out of here."

"Now, now, now, Mister Smith." Draco wagged a finger at Smith. "You've had quite a bit to drink too. I don't think you or Mister Potter are in any shape to be Apparating."

Potter giggled. "It's really true." He slid off the stool he was sitting on. "Would you be so kind as to take me home, Mister Malfoy? I'm afraid that I'll be Splinched if Zach took me."

"It would be my pleasure to escort you." Draco extended a hand. "What safer company to be in than someone of the Justice Department?"

Potter took the extended hand, swaying slightly. "Truly no safer company."

"Goodnight, Mister Smith." Draco smirked.

"Oh, goodnight Zach." Potter waved. "Thank you for the drinks."

Smith glared as Draco left the pub with Potter. As Draco ushered Potter out the door, he threw Smith and dazzling smile. How easy it had been to swoop in and steal Potter from his grasp. They walked in silence for a time before Harry started giggling again.

"You are a very sneaky individual, Draco Malfoy."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Stealing me from right underneath Zach's nose. Quite Slytherin of you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Harry took a few quick steps to stand in front of Draco. "Don't give me that excuse. I know what you've been doing, Malfoy."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Harry placed a hand on Draco's chest. "You offer to take me home yet you have no idea where I live. What are you up to?"

"I'm not up to anything. Truly."

"Then what is it with your drastic upturn of cases involving Alchemy?"

"Have you thought perhaps that maybe there is a drastic upturn in Alchemy-applied crimes? Albeit being an exact science, its incredibly hard to trace. A wizard could commit several offenses before being caught."

Harry swayed dangerously on his feet. "That's a very well-thought comeback. However, you didn't answer my first question." He leaned forward. "How do you intend to get me home without knowing where I live?"

"I have my ways." Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm, steadying him. "_Accueil_."

**.oOoOo.**

"You know, this is not _my _home." Harry sat matter-of-factly.

Draco chuckled. "No, no it is not."

Harry wobbled and steadied himself on the staircase railing. "Where are we exactly?"

"My flat."

Harry's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Your flat?"

"I didn't stutter."

"Why are we here?"

"Because you're drunk and need a place to sober up." Draco ushered Harry into the kitchen. "Away from Zacharias Smith's greedy paws."

Harry sat down at the kitchen table. "Thank you for that. Ever since I came back from Nicaragua he's been quite adamant about spending time together."

"Can you blame him?" Draco asked, setting two cups of tea on the table. "I mean with the whole fallout with the Weasley girl and then you running off to Nicaragua to study with Apollo Knightrode. A suddenly unattached Savior to the Wizarding World. People are going to assume things that perhaps aren't quite true."

Harry stared down at his tea cup. "Most things are true."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, everything that you've read in the _Prophet_. Everything that you hear people gossiping about." Harry sighed. "It's all true."

"So?" Draco sipped his tea.

"Don't you care what people think?" Harry asked. "I assume you do, since your family has always worried about appearances."

"If I cared what people thought, I wouldn't be the arrogant bastard that sits before you today." Draco smirked.

Harry chuckled. "I suppose not."

"Are you feeling well enough to Apparate?"

"Are you kicking me out?"

"Don't answer my question with a question."

Harry drained his tea cup. "Yes, I'm fine now."

Draco ushered the dark-haired wizard to the door. "Well, you have a wonderful night and a very happy Christmas, Harry Potter."

"You too, Mal—Draco." and Harry disappeared with a small pop.

Draco couldn't help but smile at Harry's use of his given name.

**.oOoOo.**

Harry paced the hallway. He had no idea why he decided to show up here. Perhaps as a thank you for last night. Shaking his head, he walked towards the door. He'd had already come this far, it was pointless to walk away now. Straightening his cloak he knocked firmly on the door. He heard some stomping about and a tumble before the door opened.

"Well, well." Draco smiled. "What an unexpected Christmas guest."

"I know it's a bit sudden, but I don't think you should spend holidays alone." Harry ran a hand up and down his arm. "And I didn't have anyo—what on earth am I talking about? You probably have plans."

Draco leaned against the doorframe. "I have no plans whatsoever, Harry Potter. Do come in." He gestured for Harry to come inside.

"Um, thank you." Harry said as he stepped over the threshold.

"You're most welcome." Draco led Harry into the front room. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Oh, eh sure." Harry replied, sitting down on the sofa.

Draco walked over to a small cabinet and pulled out two glasses and a decanter. Walking back over to the sofa, he placed the glass in Harry's had before flopping down on the sofa next to him.

"What is this?"

Draco glanced sideways at Harry. "Just drink it."

"What is this?"

"It's an ice cream sundae, just drink it."

Harry stared at Draco with narrowed eyes. "Are you drunk?"

"Getting there, I prefer to take my Christmases while intoxicated." Draco replied simply, downing his drink. "Now drink it before I drink it for you."

Harry stared down at the cup. Firming his resolve, he swallowed. He spluttered, the liquid burning his throat. "What is this?"

"Scotch."

"It's strong." Harry coughed.

Draco smirked. "It'll put hair on your chest."

"Or forget what you did last week."

"That too..." Draco set his glass down on the coffee table. "Will you answer me a question, Harry Potter?"

Harry sipped gingerly on his scotch. "What?"

"Why are you really here?" Draco asked. "You could be anywhere in the world, with any person, and yet you're here with me."

Harry smiled down at his cup. "The same reason you've taken on more cases involving Alchemy."

"Because I find them interesting?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "Because I like you and I think you like me too."

"Oh..." Draco smiled weakly.

"But apparently and incredibly presumptious." He stood, gulping down the read of his drink. "Thanks for the drink. Happy Christmas, Draco."

Before Harry could turn away form the sofa, he found himself flat on his back on the carpet. Draco lay on top of him, panting slightly. He looked like the pictures Harry had seen of Abaddon, the angel of destruction. A top his head was a tousled mess of white-blonde hair, his icy grey-blue eyes burned brightly with a fierce desire.

"But I do like you." Draco smiled. "I like you very much, Harry."

Draco kissed him, tangling his long pale fingers into jet-black hair. Their legs intertwined, bringing their bodies flush against one another. Harry moaned into Draco's mouth, grinding his hips against the blonde wizard's. He clutched at Draco's light green button-up. Draco pulled his hands from Harry's hair to slide his hand beneath Harry's black t-shirt. Harry pulled away, gasping.

"I, um, I've got to go." Harry said, sitisting up.

"You don't have to go." Draco said, kissing Harry's neck. "You could stay, I would like it if you stayed."

"I would like it—_oh gods_—if I stayed to." Harry replied, melting under Draco's minstrations. "I just don't want to make a decision I'm going to regret."

Draco sat back on his heels. "A decision you'd regret?"

"I don't want a one-off."

Draco smiled. "Who said this was a one-off?" He leaned forward and started kissing Harry's neck again. "I definitely don't want this to be a one-off."

"You don't?" Harry pushed lightly on Draco's shoulders.

Draco sat back. "I know we weren't the closest in school," Harry raised an eyebrow. "but I've grown and so have you. There was always something intriguing about you, Harry. I must admit I have had some feelings for you quite some time now."

Harry bite his lip, smiling slightly. "Are you admitting to having a crush on me, Draco Malfoy?"

"I am admitting to having feelings for you, Harry."

Harry smiled, tackling Draco. Smothering the blonde wizard in kisses. The spent the rest of the evening on the floor in Draco's front room. Laughing, drinking, reminising about their time at the Hogwarts, about their jobs and co-workers at the Ministry. Harry was the first to fall asleep, legs tangled in Draco's, arms wrapped around his slender waist. Draco stared down at the dark-haired wizard. He smiled to himself. Perhaps this was the way it was suppose to be. Not fighting, not slinging insults at each other but here cuddled together on the sofa. He pulled Harry's glasses from his face and laid them on coffee table. Pulling the smaller wizard close, Draco settled in for the night. Enjoying the dreams that floated through his head of what he and Harry would become. Perhaps he didn't hate Christmas as much as he had thought.

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><p>Completed 06.08.2011<p>

_**End Note: **Holy balls, this took forever! I know I've been nonexistent as of late, but I've been working on this, a sequel of sorts to 'Merry Christmas' and a lovely little piece to get the Harry/Fenrir out of my system. So, keep your eyes out folks! Now that I'm finished with school and it's summer I have more free time to write. Hopefully**.**_


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